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About The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current | View Entire Issue (March 24, 1967)
THE DAILY NEBRASKAN
FRIDAY, MARCH 24, 1957
Closing The Gap
Arousing student interest in cultural
education has been a concern of many
the past year. It appears that a trouble
some communication gap exists between
the student and other segments of t h e
University, for while cultural opportuni-
The Daily Nebraskan strives con
stantly to relieve this problem. However,
a group of dedicated students have come
up with what the Daily Nebraskan feels
will be another helpful solution in closing
this gap an educational FM radio sta
tion owned and operated by students.
The purpose of the station, essential
ly, will be to communicate the various
aspects of campus life to the student.
Bob Wilson, spokesman of the stu
dents working on the project, has writ
ten: Communications Asset
"We do not claim that a campus FM
station would completely solve the prob
lem, but a student-to-student non-commercial
FM station programmed by students
for a University audience would be a
substantial communications asset. As the
University continues to grow, become
more diverse and occupy more land, the
problem of communication will become
more difficult." It is notable that almost
all other institutions of higher education
in the country have some educational
FM radio arrangement.
The students who organized the Uni
versity of Nebraska Student Broadcast
ing Foundation (USBF) hope to approach
the programming In a meaningful, bold
and naive way. By broadcasting original
w,orks, special interviews, campus politi
cal opinion, live concerts, sport spots, in
depth news and deserving literary and
musical talent, they forsee using radio's
power as a "provocative communica
The entire project Is an exciting one.
To the great relief of most, the station
will be unhampered by commercials. The
students plan to apply for a Class D li
cense from the Federal Communications
Commission this summer, threby taking
the channel out of the range and out of
competition with commercial broadcas
ters. Program Guide
This means that for six: hours each
day students can listen to uninterrupted
programs which they will be able to se
lect from a program guide which will be
circulated. The programs will "be within
an educational format, but Informal edu
cation. We do not intend to invade the
classroom and try to duplicate the facul
ty. Nor Is it our function to act as an arm
of University public relations."
Wilson said that all varieties untapped
talent will be utilized not excluding
The problems Which have been en
Countered have been great. The Nebras
ka Broadcasters Association has opposed
the station, probably for commercial
reasons. The University Board of Re
gents refused to take action so the group
decided to apply for status as a regular
recognized student organization, which
they received from the Faculty Commit
tee on Student Affairs and the ASUN.
They still have to negotiate with the Ne
braska Union for space to build and op
erate their station and apply to the FCC
for an operating license, which could
take many more months.
The biggest problem, one which di
rectly involves the student body and Uni
versity alumni, is money.
The University could not afford a fi
nancial venture of this size so it refused
to take on the project that is why the
students decided to make theirs a dis
tinct corporation of students. It will have
a board of student and faculty directors
and a large staff, with 15 salaried mana
gers and announcers. For this reason,
plus the fact that it is a non-commercial
station, it will have to exist on donations.
Presently the goal is $25,000. This
would include costs for equipment plus
the first year's operational budget. The
Nebraska Foundation will receive the do
nations, which are tax deductable, in a
fund established for the purpose. The
money will be held until the corporation
is ready to build and buy equipment.
The energy which Bob Wilson and
several other University men have spent
is pursuing the project is impressive.
The Daily Nebraskan encourages all stu
dents to seriously consider ways in which
they can help build the FM station, which
will provide another link towards a bet
Our Man Hoppe
Statehood For England
I have launched a mod
est campaign to achieve
Statehood for England. I
do feel we made a regret
table mistake in granting
our British cousins their
independence back in 1776
and I say they should now
be readmitted to the
I realize, of course, that
such a proposal will meet
stiff opposition in Con
gress. And we might as
face up to the key ques
tion that's bouhd to be
"Are these natives ready
I say yes. Oh, I realize
they would create a severe
drain on our economy. I
know about the almost im
penetrable language bar
rier. And t have seen at
first hand how they stub
bornly cling to their quaint
and unreasonable tribal
But they've shown pluck.
Since Independence they're
come a long way, all on
their own. Pulled them
selves up by their own
bootstraps, so to speak.
For example, In most
areas of England today,
one can safely drink the
"tAt tt tAt
It's true that England of
fers neither the natural re
sources of Alaska nor the
beguiling climate of Ha
waii. But with massive in
jections of Federal aid and
the infusion of teams from
such agencies as Vista and
the Teachers Corps, I'm
sure that within our life
times England would be
come a State we could all
be proud of.
The Good News
Naturally, once I'd sold
myself on the proposal, I
popped around to my
friend, Commander Homer
T. P e 1 1 y - Bone, O.B.E.,
D.M.V., I.L.W.U., (cq) to
break the good news. I
found him seated in front
of !his primitive gas heater
sipping a luke-warm whis
key and water. (Really, we
must teach them first off
how to make ice).
Now don't get youe
hopes up prematurely.
Commander,' I began cau
tiously, "but don't you feel
England's ready to become
the 51st American State?"
I can't tell you how his .
face lit up. Mostly in reds
and purples. "We bloody
damn well are," lie said
"Of course," I added
hastily in an attempt to
paint the gloomier aspects,
"you'd have to accept
money from Washington,
but there's nothing really
demeaning about that.
"Garrumph!" (cq) he
"And you'd have to give
up your independent for
eign policy. For example,
you couldn't oppose us In
"Arrghh!" (cq) he said.
"And you'd have to let
us deploy missile bases
around your island, mak
ing you a likely target in
the event of nuclear war."
"Garrumph-a r r g h h!"
(cq) he said.
"But," I said, turning to
the bright side, "think of
the pride of being part of
a great, driving nation.
Think of the thrill of show
ing the flag around the
world, fighting wars in for
eign climes, shouldering
the White man's burden.
Doesn't it make your heart
Well, I shan't report the
Commander's answer. Not
in this family newspaper.
But perhaps we should
grant them a period of ter
ritorial status, like Guam
or Puerto Rico, before ad
mitting them to full State
hood. Pax Americana
The problem, and I hate
to say this, seems one of
apathy. We must instill in
them a sense of duty, a
desire to control the des
tines of far-flung millions,
to impose a Pax Ameri
cana and to build an eco
nomic Empire on which
the sun never sets.
It's odd they should show
such little interest. After
all, why knock it if you
haven't tried it?
Since spring is the season for all sorts of games
Greek games, Spring Day games, ASUN games, some
resourceful students began a game of their own.
Now, this particular game doesn't really have any
name, purpose or object. It's just for fun and nothing de
pends upon it's outcome, which is a welcome relief in it
self. To play this game, you must have a rudimentary
knowledge of some well-known books, a few musicals and
even fewer poems. The idea is to think of a false title for
a well-known book, and the guessing game procedes from
For example, the title "Of Rodents and Homo Sa
piens" is obviously "Of Mice and Men." Since everyone
is busily skipping classes anyway, try deducing the real
titles of the following:
"The Red Mail"
"Pitcher in the Alfalfa"
"In Cold Corpuscles"
"God of the Insects"
"The Greatest of the Seven Deadly Sins and Belief
"The Molesting of the Hair"
"Raisins of Anger"
"Blueberry Fish Limb"
"Sparrow Greaser and His Ho Ho Men"
"Daisy Tympanl Tune"
"The Gem Yaht of Bread Man X Potato"
"Picture of the Almost Grown Up Young Man Painter"
"Frances Plus a Small Place Where You Keep Animals"
"Impoverished Dick's Book
"Thanksgiving Day People's Advancement"
"The Story of Yawning Emptiness"
"A Location within the Star Nearest to Earth"
Some of these probably seem rather simple, but then,
the students who made them up are also rather simple.
Remember, the winner of this contest will receive a
fabulous, onee-iifhsaife prize to be announced after vacation
...BY KELLEY BAKER
SETTING: a dismal bog on the secret McSchlaf in terror from the witches learned
field of Abel When from power he's be turned.
YEAR: the dark Middle Ages
' Senate Chorus
The scene opens with Tarry Mc
Schlaf confronting Spider, Whisk and
Meme Razz huddled over a stewing pot
of dead issues.
WITCHES (IN UNISON):
Double, double, toil and trouble,
Rights Bill burn and Piper bubble.
Toss into the pot around
Liver of turncoat freshly found,
Housing rights and women's hours,
Legislation that's not ours,
Joe McCarthy save our powers (wailing)
Hail McSchlaf, Abe thou never wert,
Conquerer of liberals from the left.
Hall Piper, with thy Dylan shirt
Under thy sword the ASP was cleft
Hail forces of reaction,
Opposing progress at each and every turn,
With previous years as your attraction,
Searching out ideas to burn.
Ours the RIGHT to future see,
We can tell you what will be.
But future we will save till last,
Our concern is more the past.
ANUS ruler ycu became
Adding O'Do'er to thy name
While you sought increasing fame,
Turned tiger toy to lamb too tame.
Future, Piper, shall be secured
If the ASP men are detoured,
Though from left path you'll be lured,
Be steadfast, damn it, power's assured.
Meme rose to chide McSchlaf
Why the crown he would not doff.
McSchlaf aWoke with mind alert,
"Meme, rose thou never wert."
Then from the left McSchlaf did hear
The Spangled banners drawing near,
Shouting protest to the skies
About administration's lies.
And on the right arose a din,
McFlaugher's host came inarching in.
All the witches did intone,
McSchlaf will never be alone,
But changes soon will cause him pain
When BORnam comes to Deans inane.
O'Do'er's ranks then did appear
And In the lead was Tom the Greer.
Marching, marching, never moving,
Came the group all disapproving.
Nurd, Nonsensey and McSlymy
New legislation tried to stymie,
Seemeseeme, Huss and Clammish,
All the leftists they would banish.
All the rest were lead by Hall,
Who from God had heard his call.
McSchlaf arranged the myriad throng
and led the group in righteous song:
(sung to the tune of Terry's Toys)
We're the bright young men
Who want to go back to 1410,
We're Tarry's Toys.
We're the youth with the Boss,
Yes, a government of Robert Ross,
We're Tarry's Joys.
We're the old kind of youth
At your alma amater,
Our rules have been designed
Just to save your daughter
Back to when the boys were boys
And girls were girls,
And you felt so damn secure
Just knownlng which wore curls.
We're the kids who agree
To sign to show our loyalty,
We're Tarry's Boys.
And we can't comprehend
Why the thinkers aren't friendlier
To Tarry's Toys
Why, our parents emulated
Roosevelt and party,
But we just want to grow up
To be like Joe McCarthy.
You too can Join the crew,
Hat" the left and we'll love you,
Back with Tarry,
Not with Lydick, Kent or Larry,
Back with Tarry's Toys.
(tympany, exeunt with flourish)
Bill of Rights
60 Cents In Civil Rights
It was twenty minutes to nine and I had to be at the
corner of Fulton and Nostrand by five after. It was rain
ing, the generator had fallen out of my car, and I was
on Foster Avenue, sort of in the heart of Flatbush.
So I had to get a taxi. I was therefore, according to
an ageless tradition in New York, farther up that well
known creek than I could ever had imagined, for experi
ence had long taught me that if you even looked dark
Skinhed you simply did not entertain the idea of getting
a taxi in Flatbush.
They locked all doors when they saw you coming, and
if you got the opportunity to get around the driver's side
he told you that he didn't "want to go over there." Then
he would speed off before you had time to pull him out
the window and beat your civil rights out of him.
Anyway, this night I really needed that taxi, and I
decided that regardless of traditions and precedents, I
would get one. I stood at the corner of Foster and New
York Avenues in the pouring rain. I had prepared myself
well for my venture before leaving home.
Evea For Me
Two taxis flew by, and I went through the motions
of hailing them; both slowed, scowled, and accelerated.
Then, as I saw the traffic light turn red, I slinked behind
a UPS van and waited as a taxi cruised to a stop at the
light. Then I darted out and quickly pulled open the back
door. But the light had turned green again, and as the
driver took one look at me, he drove off at about 40
miles an hour with the door open, and I was sent reeling
up against the curb. I was happy it was dark and there
were no passersby; it could have been embarassing,
even for me.
I waited. Oh, we blacks never mind waiting!
The light was red and another taxi was coming to a
halt. I eased out again, but this time the driver saw me
and quickly reached over and locked the door. It was ten
minutes to hine and the light was still red. I darted
around to the driver's side and put my plan into action.
I pulled the little revolver from my pocket and eased it
up behind the left ear of the driver, and with the other
hand I reached in and opened the back door.
"Dig it," I said, swinging quickly into a frightening
vernacular. "You move this cab an inch before I get in
side and I'll blow your brains all over the street."
He froze, and I quickly climbed into the back seat. I
put the thing back into my coat pocket. He waited.
He had regained himself. "I don't go over there,"
he said. "I'm on my supper break, mister. I don't want
no trouble. I gotta wife and three kids to support. Wad
dya wanta make trouble for? I don't go over there."
In exasperation I brought out the silly thing again
and touched his ear with it. Besides, there were cats
lined up behind us, and they were honking horns and
"Fulton and Nostrand," I said, and glancing quickly
at his identification card I added an extra "guinea." He
turned off Foster onto New York Avenue and we were on
"You gonna get yourself into a lot of trouble, mis
ter," he said. "You know that?"
The Big Time
I smiled and pocketed my gun. They would never be
lieve this in Grants Town, Nassau, Bahamas. I thought.
Just like in the movies. The big time. New York. Ooops!
We neared Empire Blvd. and the 71st Precinct, and the
driver was slowing down, even though we had the green
The gun was out again and up behind his ears. It was
the first time during the entire episode that I was real
ly frightened. Anyway, he sped past the station, and I set
tled down again.
Then, with childlike curiosity I sais, "You prejudiced,
He grunted. "Just don't like being forced. You coulda
asked me nice."
At This Minute
"You locked your doors," I said wearily. "Mister,
you realize how many taxi drivers lock their doors that
way in New York City every day? You know how many
black people in New York are waiting at this minute for
"You don't force yourself"
"The law says you have to take me where I want to
go within the city limits."
"A guy can't make any money off you people."
So, the shoe pinched there. I laughed. Who would
ever think that prejudice could ever ben an economic nec
essity? The poor guy the poor, stupid bastard who prob
ably went diligently to Mass every Sunday, contributed
to the Muscular Dystrophy fund, and had a daughter
who was exorbitantly beautiful tnd loved him very much.
He pulled over at the corner of Fulton and Nostradn.
The fare was 85 cents. I gave him the exact change and
got out of the cab after easing an extra dollar on the seat
next to him. He'd find It later, I thought.
I stood near the cab. He looked at me with all the
blood and venom of his ancestors, and as he pulled away
he shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Nlggerl Dirty, rotten niggers all!"
I smiled, and taking the gun from my pocket, dropped
It Into an ash can. I had paid 60 cents for It at Wool
worth's, and had forgotten to give It to my nephew. I
looked at all the beautiful black people scurrying about
me In the rain. So many of them bought and used real
guns. I assimilated.
Vtl. N Mo. M
Mirch 34. 19S7
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